The lovely Kitty asked how Musicman and I happened to meet and how we ended up together. I mentioned briefly in a previous post that we had met dancing but that was all. So here is the story of how we met and ended up together.
First let me give you a little background about us both. Musicman was born and raised here where we live. I moved here at age 10. We are the same age and graduated from different highschools within days of each other. We had a lot of friends in common and hung around at the same places in highschool, his first cousin was one of my friends in highschool. We most definitely attended some of the same parties, but we never met. I have always told him that is because if we had met in highschool I would never have put up with his possessiveness of me.
After graduation I moved away and was gone for a number of years. I moved back when my then current relationship ended. I went back to my previous job and spent time recouping and deciding what I wanted to do next. I had made plans with a friend, after the holidays, at the end of the year we were leaving town together.
This was a time in my life when I didn't date, I went out to bars with girlfriends and picked up men for sex if I was in the mood. I had certain rules I never broke. I never gave out my phone number, I never took them to my home. I never saw them again. I used them on my terms for my benefit and walked away. That's all I was interested in, I DID NOT want a relationship.
During the same period of time Musicman was working and helping his dad care for his two younger brothers and Mom who was seriously ill. He dated some, but nothing serious.
It was the week before Halloween, the week after my 21st birthday, I was at one of my favorite bars with a friend. It was great little place that let us dance on the tables and the bar. It was a total pickup joint, but it was so much fun, I was a regular there.
I was on the dance floor with my friend when Musicman came up behind me and asked me to dance. I said no, several times. He asked why, I gave him every excuse I could think of. He kept asking no matter what I said. Finally I danced with him, one dance, then he bought me a drink and we went over to a corner to try and talk. He was sexy as hell, dark hair, dark eyes, a leather jacket that just oozed sex. Definitely dangerous, definitely my type but so not for me, I had other plans. Shortly into the conversation I told him I needed to go check on my friend and said I would be right back.
He caught up to me as I was leaving with my friend. He asked for my number. I told him no. He tried to talk me into giving it to him, but I didn't relent. I told him if he really wanted to see me I would be there for the Halloween party the following weekend, then I left.
The night of the Halloween party I worked till 11:00 then my friends and I went to the bar for the party. I dressed as a pirate wench. I really didn't think he would be there. I had told all my friends, all week long I wasn't going to date him. He was waiting for me at the front door of the bar. I barely had both feet in the door when he was simultaneously expressing his appreciation for my skimpy outfit and covering me with his coat. That same sexy leather as the week before. I've joked for years that it was the coat that finally made me say yes. He wanted to take me home that night, I said no, but I did agree to an actual date with him the next night.
Our first date, I was wearing the same black high heeled do me boots I had worn with my pirate wench costume. He drove a red 72 Chevelle, it had black racing stripes and a broken front seat. It sat at an angle so I always had a feeling like I was in a plane on the ascent after takeoff. I accidentally put the heel of my boot right through one of his speakers. We went to see one of his good friends and his wife. His friend turned out to be the guy who sat right next to me in homeroom for all four years of highschool.
I let him come home with me that night, but I wouldn't let him in my bedroom. He broke my roommates couch trying to convince me. He also told me he loved me that night. I laughed at him. I told him he couldn't love me, he didn't know me. He said he didn't care if he knew me or not, he loved me. I didn't believe him and I didn't have sex with him.
The next weekend we went out again, I met more of his friends. Guys he had been friends with since grade school. We drank, the guys played pool, I danced. His friends told me all kinds of crazy stories about him. I had a great time and this time when he took me home I invited him to stay. Sparks flew and I instantly felt something, something I had never felt before, that elusive connection. I knew I had found the right man, or rather, he found me. That night when he told me he loved me I believed him. We had known each other 2 weeks.
He stayed with me most nights after that. I moved into a new place 6 weeks later, he moved in with me. Six months later we were laying in bed talking about relationships and what we both wanted and expected from marriage. Our ideas coincided nicely, we married the following week.
Very few people believed it would last. After all what good could come from a union of the wounded wild child and the quintessential bad boy? This summer we will celebrate 26 years of marriage, more than half our lives.
I have felt for a very long time that divine intervention was involved in Musicman and I meeting and coming together, what do you think?